You Are My End
by Anne Carmichael
Summary: Something different means the world to everyone, and no one can tell whose smile will light it, whose glance may shatter it, or what will end it. ONESHOT.


"The world's gonna end you know." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

"No, it isn't silly!" She admonished him fondly, twirling a hand through his tousled curls. He rolled over. Lifting his head from where it rested on her stomach, propped himself up on his elbows and looked her in the eyes.

"It is to." He was serious.

"You're nuts." She announced, matter-of-fact and completely unphased.

"You don't believe me!" He accused indignantly. "C'mon. I'll show you." He sprang up from the ground with an agility born of strength and ease with the body he was using.

"Where are we going?" He reached out a hand and she followed him skyward from their grassy resting place with considerably less grace. She shook her head, a small incredulous smile forming on her gently curving lips. She tried to brush the grass from her shorts, but found her hand useless as he pulled her behind him, unlatched the kissing gate at the back boundary of the lawn, and pulled her through the fence.

"Where are we going?" She asked again.

"To the end of the world."

"We are not. The world's round, it doesn't have ends." She retorted, slightly annoyed.

"No. We're going to the end of the world. C'mon." He jogged ahead of her, grinning.

They raced on; away from the house, away from the lights of the street on the other side of it. She followed him through the woods. Their footsteps were muffled by the needles carpeting the ground beneath the pine trees. The tall pines spired above them in stark relief against the graying sky, lit eerily with the ghostly light that precedes sunset in the days when Summer flirts with Autumn. When green and brown mingle in the trees. When birds flitter uncertainly on the brink of migration. This evening was soft and warm. The world around them still ringing with warmth from the touch of the afternoon sun.

He had let go her hand, and dashed on up the hill in front of her. She followed him more slowly; traversing the breadth of woods he seemed so eager to bring her through. She grumbled slightly under her breath, but could not help smiling at his enthusiasm for what ever the hell he wanted her to see. She felt the ground begin to level under her feet. The trees thinned, leaving wider and wider avenues between them.

Then the forest caught fire. The flames blazed from the horizon. She walked out of the woods, and into the inferno. The world was ablaze. Everything shone in shades of gold, green, orange, and the bright blue flame of sky, burning above all of it. But he didn't burn. He stood on the brink of the hill, beyond the woods, in front of the fire. As she drew close to him, he turned to her. In the brilliant light of the setting sun she could see him in every detail: the bright blue eyes, the little scar across his eyebrow, the crookedly perfect curve of his lips. His chest rose and fell slightly from the climb and she could feel the warmth of exertion, a distinctly male warmth, radiating off him.

Her loving glance was interrupted as he pulled her in, resting her against him, his chin on her shoulder and blowing softly into the curve of her neck and kissing away the tingle his breath left. She gazed at the sunset. She couldn't see him anymore, but she could feel the curve of his body supporting hers, the outline of the muscles in his arms as they encircled her. She could smell him. He smelled wonderful. She turned her head, resting her nose in the groove of his bicep. He smelled of the outdoors, fresh-cut grass, soap, and a little of the sweat which moistened his skin and lingered in his hair. And he smelled like him, like peace and laughter, like a safe-place full of adventure. She breathed deep again gazing out toward the far horizon, past the hills that went on forever, past the hills that went on forever after that, to the sun in all it's disappearing glory.

"Here it comes." He said, interrupting her drifting.

She laughed.

"No kidding." He said. "This is the end of the world."

She shook her head. Then the world didn't just catch fire. It was fire. Everything blazed purple, gold, red, green, orange and bronze over the stark blackness of the rolling hills. A single star flickered above their heads, a tiny point of peace in all that turmoil. They stood in the middle of the blaze, burning along with the sun. Purples and blues of the darkening sky descended, slowly pushing the blazing furnace below the horizon. The sun blazed more fiercely than ever, red as bloody rubies.

"That's the end of the world."

"No that's just the end of today." She asserted

"No. It isn't. My world ends every time that sun goes down." He slid his arms from her shoulders to her waist and moved to stand beside her, pulling her close again, tilting her face to his, a hand on her chin. "When that sun goes down I can't see your face anymore. I can't look you in the eyes, I can't drink you in and see exactly how you look and how you move, and my world doesn't go on without that." He wasn't smiling. He looked at her, every inch of her, as though when that sun went down he would never see her again.

The evening breeze whipped over the hill top and she snuggled closer to him. The sky had darkened, the woods behind them now a deep mass of black spires. And ahead of them the sun was losing its fight fast. With a last blaze of scarlet and orange, the edge of the sun's disc dipped behind the forever hills and was gone.

The last beam of light glinted off the tear gliding down his cheek. She turned away from the darkening sky and in the increasing gloom, wiped his cheek gently with her palm.

"There'll be many more days." She said softly. Her small smile got somewhat bigger and her face shone with glee in the lingering light. "And there are several exciting senses other than sight." She felt his grin and pulled him to her.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This is an old brainchild…okay let's call it a heartchild of mine. I'm deeply fond of it. It was inspired by the general mood of Sarah Dessens writing and is here for you to read, and hopefull enjoy, and(I implore you) to review! Thank you! 


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